Chapter X
In Camp.
Nestling snugly among large stately trees of pine and spruce, the little
log-cabin presented a picturesque appearance. Its one room, lighted by a
small window, served as kitchen, living and sleeping apartments combined.
It was warm, for the rough logs were well chinked with moss, while the
snow lay thick upon the roof and banked up around the sides. This cabin
had been recently built, and stood there by the little brook as an outward
and visible sign of an inward change in the heart and mind of one of
Glendow's sturdy sons.
The night Stephen Frenelle left Nellie at the Rectory after the drive home
from the dance, he had fought one of those stern, fierce battles which
must come to all at some time in life. As Jacob of old wrestled all night
long for the mastery, so did Stephen in the silence of his own room. Sleep
fled his eyes as he paced up and down, struggling with the contending
thoughts which filled his heart. At times he clenched his hands and ground
his teeth together as he pictured Dick Farrington standing in the Hall,
hurling forth his taunting remarks. Then he longed for daylight to come
that he might go to his house, call him forth, and give him the thrashing
he so well deserved.
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